


shelter

by reversemagician (himaAlaya)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himaAlaya/pseuds/reversemagician
Summary: He did, he really did want to talk about it. Akira wanted to just bare his soul here in this family diner to Mishima. He knew it was a bad idea, even if he whispered. People would hear him, people would talk. It wasn’t any different back home, why would it be different here?





	shelter

**Author's Note:**

> a continuation of a twitter exchange between my akira and my friends mishima that ran away from me

Akira slides into the booth at the diner, listening to the light rain just outside of the building. Mishima sits across from him, usually he’d want to sit together but today was just one of those days where close proximity might be a bad idea.

Bad idea or no, he’d probably move over later. He rests his head on the table, cushioning his head with his arms. They sit together in silence for a few minutes, and Mishima reaches over and runs his fingers through Akira’s hair. He knew that Mishima wouldn’t push him to talk about what happened with his parents, why his radio silence had lasted for as long as it did. He didn’t want to keep secrets, but also didn’t want to subject him to his family. It was coming closer to lack there of of family though, with the way that his parents had been treating him the past 6 months.

Mishima threads his fingers through Akira’s hair quietly, only stopping when someone comes by to take their order. Akira doesn’t even look up, letting the other decide what he should get instead of having to think for himself. He deserved a break. He deserved more than a break, he deserved a good night’s sleep. He listened to the quiet exchange, just small background noises to the loud rain outside. He lifts his head up once the waitress is gone, resting his chin on his hands. He breathes out, blowing stray hairs out of his eyes.

“I missed you.” It was an understatement, there wasn’t really a word strong enough to convey how he felt while he was out of Tokyo, stuck out in the suburbs for what felt like months. The reality was it that he was only gone for a week or so. His parents had told them it was to spend time with him, check up on him. Those had been really blatant lies. The week had been tense, it felt like he was walking on thin ice while he was so much as in the same room as them.

It made him miss the twins, at least they yelled at him when he did something wrong.

Mishima didn’t answer, staring at him like he had two heads instead. Yes, this was exactly how he had planned spending his evening with Mishima. He felt dejected, and guilty. It ate away at him for being gone for so long without saying anything. Maybe if he was the person that everyone seemed to think he was, it’d be better. He’s not perfect, nobody is. “Nevermind.” He mumbled, letting his head fall back onto the table. He ran a hand through his hair, opting to stay silent until the other said anything aside from staring at him. Akira knew he wasn’t acting like himself, though not that anyone would really know what he’s like outside of his joker facade. It was easier to just play it like he was cooler than he was, confident in the choices he made. He knew the risk, inside the metaverse and outside of it.

A soft clink on the table brought him back from lying down. Two coffees were set down, along with the milk and sugar that were going to remain unused. He sits back up, not leaning on his hands or slouching, and pulls the coffee towards him. He stares into it, wishing that he’d gone straight to Sojiro to ask him for a cup. He must have been making a face because Mishima spoke up this time.

“Are you alright?”

Akira barely looked up, there it was again, looking at him like he had two heads- No. It wasn’t the same. He was looking at him with worry and concern. That’s how he had been looking at him this whole time and he couldn’t even realize it. He sunk into his seat, feeling even worse for ignoring him.

“No.”

He avoided looking at him, continuing to stare at his coffee instead. It was better than some places, but not as good as what he would like. Maybe if he stopped drinking so much coffee he’d be less anxious about….everything. “Sorry.” He feels it come out under his breath, unintentional but still hanging in the air between them. Mishima looks so concerned, it’s not a good look on anyone when it’s directed at him. Akira can hardly move, and it barely registers that Mishima is moving over and sitting next to him first.

He leans over, and Mishima wraps his arm around Akira’s shoulder, pulling him in closer. Akira pushes his face into Mishima’s side, skewing his glasses. It didn’t matter, he just wanted to be close, as close as he was allowed to be. Fingers thread gently in his hair again, playing with the curly strands. He sinks into Mishima, feeling all the tension from his body melting away. “I missed you so much….” He winds his arms around the other’s waist, practically lying in his lap.

“Did you want to talk about it.”

He did, he really did want to talk about it. Akira wanted to just bare his soul here in this family diner to Mishima. He knew it was a bad idea, even if he whispered. People would hear him, people would  _ talk.  _ It wasn’t any different back home, why would it be different here?

“My whole hometown hates me.” He murmured. “I made one mistake in trying to protect a woman from assault and I’m the one who gets run out of town.” He’s speaking in to Mishima’s shirt, hoping that he could maybe here him. “I told you how I was with my parents right? It wasn’t exactly….” He had to stop, trying to think of a way to word. How do you explain nicely that your parents only brought you home to basically kick you out? Maybe like that.

“They brought me home, only to show me that no one wants me around.” Mishima stops his motions, hand stilled. Akira doesn’t move, he continues to speak before he can clam up and start to show how he really feels. “I knew that I was just a pain to them, a stain on their pristine reputation the moment I wasn’t their perfect son. They didn’t want me before I was their son either, the assault charge was really just the thing that set them off. They couldn’t just send me off for being myself they needed a solid reason.”

“They couldn’t even be bothered to pick me up from the station. And when I did get home… all of the things I had left behind was already in boxes in my room.” He took a breath, trying to calm himself down. “I guess I thought, maybe I was worth a bit more.” He rubs his eyes, trying his best to hold back his tears. He knew that he was worth something, he didn’t need his parents to tell him that. It didn’t change anything though, he felt inadequate. Akira doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he was. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he sat up abruptly, pushing Mishima away. “I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for this.” He fixed his glasses, quietly pulling his now cold coffee towards him.

“Don’t say that.” His voice startled Akira, hands jittering around sleek porcelain. “Don’t say those things, Akira.”

Akira could barely turn his head to look at Mishima, still staring down at the black watery depths of his cold coffee. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something wrong again. He gripped his mug tightly, shaking from the exertion of trying to keep himself under that cool control he had perfected.

It wasn’t working.

He took another shaky breath, the final thing holding him together broke. “Why? Why not, they’re all true.” He just about choked on his words as Mishima reached over and gently touched his arm.

“They’re not. You’re worth so much more than that.” He’s so gentle, almost like he’d break if he moved Akira too quickly. He wasn’t entirely wrong, he was much more fragile than he let on. “I just wish that you could see just how much you’re worth.” The words seemed familiar, echoed from a conversation they’ve had before.

“Oh…” He mouthed quietly, letting Mishima turn him, forcing him to look. Warm hands cupped his cheeks, and Akira had no choice but to stare ahead. “This isn’t like you.” He wiped away a streak of tears with his thumb. “This is weird, usually you’re the one doing this for me.” He laughed a bit, all nervous energy unsure of what to do.

“I know, sorry about that.” He mumbled, holding Mishima’s hands to his face. It was welcome, a familiar and loving touch. “Thank you.” He felt somewhat like a child, needing to be comforted like this. It was nice though, knowing someone cared enough about him to stay even when he was in the middle of his own personal crisis.

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls him forward to press a kiss on his forehead. Akira let’s himself be swept up, falling headfirst in to whatever Mishima was giving to him. “I love you.” He whispers it, but it feels louder than it should be.

“I know, I love you too.” Mishima tucks some of his hair behind his ear, pulling him in for a hug. “I think I know better than you do.” He laughs softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and right through Akira. He clutches at the back of Mishima’s shirt, holding on as if his life depends on it.

“Thank you, Yuuki. I really needed that.”

“Remember that for next time, I was worried you were in a ditch.”

Akira snorts, just on the brink of laughter. “Yeah, I know. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”


End file.
